


The Chronicles of Dwyn

by Kebbige



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Drabble Collection, Dwyn Lavellan, Dwyn and Dorian are so bffs even if it doesn't show yet, F/M, I have no idea what I'm doing, will be updating tags as I go
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 00:39:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3508634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kebbige/pseuds/Kebbige
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble collection for the Inquisitor Dwyn Lavellan, often called "the Silent Storm" on the battlefield, and sometimes "incorrigible flirt" off of it.  </p><p>Will most likely not be in any sort of chronological order what-so-ever. Currently shouldn't contain spoilers, but will be updated with flashing exclamation marks when it does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Story Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginnings of legends, or at least the beginnings of the story of one elf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here are a couple screens of Dwyn, cause as a friend said it would make sense to connect a face to a name xD
> 
> http://i.imgur.com/1v6tENZ.png
> 
> http://i.imgur.com/fWr40il.png

Dwyn carried the wolf carcass over her shoulders, grateful that camp was only a few minutes away now. While she knew she should pride herself on both the size and the luxurious sheen on the pelt of her wolf, carrying it had become difficult in the last few miles. She glanced over at another pair of hunters she had met with not long ago, as their shared their burdens. As always, a small stab of envy went through her. It must be nice to have others to share a burden with. But she knew, as she always did in these moments, that none would share with her.

Of all of clan Lavellan, there were none among even the would be hunters that would join her in the hunt. She still is unsure if it was because of all the other hunters that - _no, best not to think about it_ \- or if they all just found her company unpalatable. She knew that’s what it was back at camp, as none but their first would converse with her unless they had to. A small part in the back of her mind once again berated herself for flirting with so many of the young hunters in her youth.

That was one of the many problems with living in a small clan, one slight against a few others and suddenly the whole clan had a grudge against you.

She huffed out a small chuckle as the two hunters glared in her direction, and then hurried on their way. She did not miss the envy in their eyes when they saw her prize though. That was what kept her going, those small looks she still received from her clansmen as she brought in the rarest of game; all on her own as well.

Well, the looks were only part of what kept her going. The other thing was when she came back from the hunt, prize in hand, and Varis, their first, would smile. The only one of all the clan whose smile wasn’t polluted with envy, bitterness, or plain dislike. She could already feel her own grin beginning to spread across her face at the thought of it. Perhaps she’d ask master Immeral to help her make something for Varis from this wolf. If he’d even let her near the crafting tools again.

Her almost full grin was stopped short by the time she actually got back to camp. Keeper Istimaethoriel was waiting for her, a grim expression upon her face. A bad sign on any day.

Except it was not nearly as bad as she was expecting. The Keeper brought her aside, wolf discarded, along with Varis, who still gave her his usual smile. Or, was it his usual smile? Was that a tinge of wariness in his gaze? Or was she just….

“Dwyn!” the Keeper’s sharp voice rang out. “Pay attention, da’len. I will not have any of your normal wool-gathering today!” Dwyn snapped her attention back to Istimaethoriel, looking properly chastised for once.

“My apologies, Keeper.”

“This Conclave,” the Keeper continued, as if there had been no interruption, “while brought together by the shemlen, will be important for us all. Many of our brothers and sisters have been pulled into this war. And I feel as though there is more to it.” The Keeper looked off, staring seemingly at nothing, if only for a moment. “This Conclave will impact not only the Dalish, but all of the elvhenan.”

“Keeper...if I may.” Dwyn spoke up after a small silence. “I do not see my part in this. I am no mage, nor would I pass well as a templar.” The Keeper only nodded as she spoke, and so Dwyn was more sure of her words. “If I go as myself it will only cause stirrings among the shem that I’m sure we don’t need.”

“You speak the truth, da’len.” Istimaethoriel nodded again. “However, I am not sending you alone. Varis will be going as our official representative. As a mage, no one will question his presence. And you will go as his guard. Wear the right things, say the right words, and no one will think twice of your being there.”

“Indeed, I will feel more at ease with you by my side Dwyn.” Varis spoke up for the first time, and there was his usual smile again. The tight knot of earlier began to ease. He wasn’t looking at her like the others yet, she still had time left.

“I’m...honored, that you think highly enough of me for this, Keeper.” Dwyn couldn’t keep herself from smiling this time. “I would think that one of the other hunters, such as Andras or Haf, someone more…”

“Come now, da’len.” the Keeper snorted. “Just because you are unpopular among the hunters means little when recognizing your skill.” A wry grin graced her face, if only for a fraction of a moment. “Do you think me blind not to see it?”

“No! Of course not Keeper!” Dwyn could feel the heat rise to her cheeks. Few could make her actually feel like a child as the Keeper did.

“The do not balk from this. I would trust few with my First, and you are chief among those few. I know you will keep Varis safe.” A full smile spread across the Keeper’s face, mirrored by Varis beside her. Pride swelled up in Dwyn’s breast, and for once she did not tamp it down to hide it from her clan.

“I will not let you down, Keeper.”

  
___

 

_Spiders, flashes of green, “Slay the elf”, chaos, falling over, hands gripping for support, emptiness._

  
___

 

Nothing made sense when she woke up. To say little of the pounding in her head, pain shot along every nerve between it and her left hand. It would come on in sharp burst, and then fade into a dull ache. Besides that, all memory of what had happened at the Conclave escaped her. There were bits and pieces, like the image of a green woman, and tense creases around Varis’ eyes as she told him she needed to look around.

_Varis!_

Dwyn’s eyes shot open, and she was met with the angry expression of a woman. A woman who in short order laid out the tragedy that once again left her the sole survivor. It was only years and years of enduring the scathing remarks of her clan, and hiding any emotion from their wicked barbs that would seek them out as weakness, that let her match the Seeker word for scathing word. Outside she was calm, and that was all the Seeker would see, but inside a turbulent storm raged.

Dwyn had never before believed the other hunters of her clan when they said she was cursed. Spending time with Varis had made her wonder occasionally, but it all seemed more like cruel accidents that always happened around her. Cursed with death, they would say, no hunter can join her without risking their life. And on one hand it was true; many of the other hunters that she had gone hunting with had died. None of them were linked to her though, other than that she had been there. A falling tree, an extra vicious wolf, giant spiders, a nasty plunge, but nothing that she didn’t try to stop, nothing that was her fault _it wasn’t her fault it was never her fault she wasn’t cursed damnit._ Not that it had ever mattered to the rest of the clan.

But when the Seeker told her that everyone had died, _everyone who attended is dead except for you_ , the doubt she’d held back for nearly ten years came crashing in upon her like a broken dam. If she was cursed, maybe her choices didn’t make it her fault but it still could have caused all those deaths. And now it had come to collect for every hunt she had gone alone, to collect the one person that had mattered most. _Why did it have to take Varis?_ She wouldn’t be able to go back home without his smile.

The Seeker -Cassandra, Dwyn figured she should at least call her by name- had told her she might be of some use. Not as though she had a choice in the matter, Dwyn could never go back home now, _not without his smile_. And so she was led through the frozen mountains, the peril of the elements or demons hurting less than the thoughts in her head.

“We’re getting close to the rift!” Cassandra’s voice finally pierced into her thoughts. “You can hear the fighting.” When Dwyn took a moment, she found it was true. The sound of steel and magic rang through the air

“Who’s fighting?” She had not seen a soul for the past mile or so.

“You’ll see soon.” Was all the response that came from her jailer as she hurried them along. As they crested the hill, they came upon another group of demons already engaged with a small group of fighters. A strange floating mass of impossible angles and eerie green light lay just beyond the battlefield. A small part of her brain recognized that must be what Cassandra had called the rift, but the battle gripped her first. Instinct guided daggers to her hands, guided blade to flesh, as it had always been for Dwyn in the hunt. It did not matter what was around her, as long as her prey was slain and kin defended. She did not expect to be startled out of her hunting instincts by a cold hand gripping the wrist of her pained arm.

“Quickly!” The hand shouted. “Before more come through!” and with that as her only warning her arm was jerked -painfully- towards the strange rift.

_Light, rage, pain, burning, “Don’t be gone long.”_

For a moment her mind was gone, but when it returned her memory was still intact. And more importantly, the rift was gone. Pain slowly subsided from her arm.

“What….what did you…?” She turned to the hand, and found it attached to another elf. A man, and a mage if the staff at his back was any indication. He held her gaze intently, as if trying to read her very soul.

“I did nothing,” the corners of his mouth began to turn up, but his gaze was still hard. Slowly, however, they softened, and the smile was full and true across his face. “The credit is yours.”

There was something about him that soothed her, but Dwyn couldn’t quite place it. Instead, she looked down at her hand, at the mark that lay there. “I did this?”

Cassandra began to question the elf about the specifics, but Dwyn let it drown out for a moment to stare at her hand, and the mark upon it. The pain from before had faded now, as if closing the rift had fulfilled something within the mark. She jerked her head up again as the mages voice addressed her again. “It seems,” his smile grew, “you hold the key to our salvation.”

That was when it hit her: _his smile_. It held warmth, acceptance, not a hint of fear or anger. It was Varis’s smile on the face of another. A knot inside her unclenched, a sense of relief flooding her veins. It wasn’t gone forever, she wasn’t to be lost among a sea of scorn and hatred. There was, again, at least one smile that would take her as she was.

Varis’s death, and the the deaths of all the others, still sat as a heavy doubt in her mind. And she would mourn those deaths when there was time. But for now, everything was alright again.

  
There was still a real smile, just for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First drabble thing for me I guess! Ahahahahaha woooo not nervous at all :'D
> 
> I appreciate any feedback or anything people might notice, I've only looked this over once myself really so there's probably a typo somewhere that I missed.


	2. Minor Concerns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas brings a worry of his to the attention of one Dorian Pavus.

“I worry about the Inquisitor sometimes.” Solas snapped closed the book he had been reading, talking seemingly to the air. While there were often quite a number of people in the library, Dorian was currently the only one around that Solas could presumably be talking to. With an inward sigh, Dorian glanced up from his own book to see the elf grimacing out the window.

“Only sometimes? And here I thought my constant worry over her wasn’t enough.” He did his best not to smirk at the irate glance that was thrown his way. “What with the whole demons coming through the Veil and the world ending going on.” This time he did smirk as the elf’s lip curled up into a small snarl. Let it never be said that Dorian didn’t enjoy riling up the others occasionally.

“Of course I am worried about those as well, but that is not what I meant.” Dorian watched as Solas took in a breath, placing the book down on the windowsill with far more care than was needed. He thought he caught a muffled ‘why am I even talking to you about this’ but he couldn’t be sure.

“Well then what is troubling you today, my good friend?” Dorian closed his book, knowing he was well and truly a part of this conversation now. “Other than the usual death and destruction, of course.”

With a sigh Solas sat in the chair opposite him, continuing to stare out the window, fingers steepled. “Dwyn is known to be very perceptive, as she often demonstrates in the field. But there are times where I wonder if some areas of her perception are….lacking.” A frown tugged down on his mouth.

“I’m not sure I follow.” Dorian was pretty sure he followed, but it would be better to make him say it.

“We’ve been at Skyhold for almost a month now, and still it seems that the Inquisitor cannot find her way around the keep.” Solas’s scowl came to rest once again on Dorian at this outburst. “You’d think she would have learned at least some of the pathways by now.”

Dorian’s smirk only grew. Yes, he most definitely knew _exactly_ what Solas was talking about.

“Ah, I see. She’s still using that excuse is she?” At the sudden blank look he got from Solas, Dorian couldn’t help but laugh. “Getting lost on her way to see commander Cullen? You’d think she would have come up with something else by now.” He rested a hand on his chin and watched as the elf tried to use his -quite intelligent if he was being honest- mind to try and figure out what Dorian meant.

“....You would have me believe that she is only pretending to be lost?” It was clear Solas couldn’t wrap his head around that one. “What on earth would be the purpose of that?”

“Think about it, I’m sure that big, bald, head of yours can come up with the answer.”

“While I've already a few theories, I’d rather you just stop dancing around, since you seem to be so knowledgeable on the matter.” Solas’s scowl was beginning to look more and more like a pout to Dorian, and it was difficult not to laugh again.

“Look at is this way Solas, how many people other than yourself have you seen Dwyn ask for directions from?” He leaned forward to watch as Solas thought through it. “The answer, which I’m sure you already have, is none. You are the only one she asks directions from. Now, what do you think that could _possibly_ mean?”

Solas scrunched up his face. “Possibly Dwyn just isn’t comfortable showing what could be construed as a sign of weakness to oth-”

“No! No, were you even trying?” Dorian brought a hand to his face. _Please_ don’t let the elf be _this dense_.

The scowl was back in full force, no longer an almost pout. “Perhaps she thinks me most knowledgeable then? Since I had previous knowledge of Skyhold.”

“You _would_ be that dense wouldn’t you” Dorian groaned. “Dwyn wants to spend time with you, time which she  _doesn't have_ anymore since she became Inquisitor. What easier way would there be other than to come to you for something that seems “official”, and then maybe, just maybe, pry a few extra moments out to just talk to you. Like a normal person, which she no longer can be.” He huffed out a sigh when he was done, crossing both his arms and legs and waiting to see how the elf would react.

Mostly wide-eyed and silent, it would seem, with a returning to staring out the window on the side. He didn’t miss, however, the light rose tinge just on the edge of the elf’s cheeks. Dorian’s lips curled up into a smirk again.

“I’ll see if I can talk her into using some new excuses, if it would please you Solas.” He could tell his grin was heading towards the shit-eating side, but catching the elf like this was too good. “Perhaps something along the lines of ‘oh Solas, I need your help with a few _training exercises_ , I just can’t get into the right _position_ on my own.’”

The light dusting of red on the elf’s cheeks turned into a deep blush, and Solas threw another glare at him. “No, I’m quite alright Dorian.” He stood up abruptly. “You’ve helped quite enough already, thank you.” and with that, the elf was gone, leaving a cackling Dorian behind.

___

“Solas, I would like to apologize for earlier.” Dorian put a hand on the elf’s shoulder.

“While I’m sure there are many things for which you might need to apologize, which are you talking about at this particular moment?” The flatness in Solas’s tone let him know that the elf knew _exactly_ what he was apologizing for. But, still, it needed to be said.

“I’m sorry for ever doubting you when you said you were worried about the Inquisitor’s sense of direction.” He sighed, watching as Dwyn walked around in circles, holding a map upside-down, muttering something about rocks and looking too much the same.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had this one written up already as well so TWO FOR THE PRICE OF ONE I GUESS
> 
> Again, any feed back would be lovely, because I can't edit worth a damn unless I'm doing it while I'm writing; a bad habit I'm trying to break xD


	3. We are not the Same

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cole spends some time with Dwyn after an accident during a scouting mission

“Bear lunges, claws, slashing across stomach, cutting deep,” His soft voice starts beside her. She doesn’t jump, she had a feeling he would visit her today. “Blood, bleeding, wound too deep, tried to stop anyway, can’t carry the bear alone.” He turns to her then, looking at the side of her face as if it has the answers.

“Hello to you too Cole.” She chuckles softly, but it won’t reach her eyes. Her feet dangle through the railing of her balcony, an endless expanse of nothing below her before it turns to stone and snow. Cole has mimicked her, showing no fear of the fall as others would have.

“The old tangles with new, different bear but still the same, same lunging, same clawing, same blood. This time it catches the small smile. Not again, _please not again._ ” He is still staring at her, and with a sigh she finally looks. His eyes pierce through her as they always do, this time truly looking for answers that her cheek would not give. “But it was not the same, the small sweet solace of Solas’s smile still stays. He did not leave as others did.”

“No, you’re right.” Dwyn leaned her head against the railing. They had been doing some scouting in the Emerald Graves, her, Solas, Dorian, and Bull. Her problem children, she liked to call them, as all of them liked to bicker with each other about anything and everything. She took the three of them out with her on scouting missions such as these as a sort of team building exercise. Everything had been going completely fine, when they had been set upon by a bear. She still had the image of it burned into the inside of her eyelids. It had been enormous, easily two heads larger than Bull even. They had fought larger foes, to be certain, but that hadn’t stopped the bear from trying. And when it had gotten to Solas…

Cole placed a hand atop hers, laying on the cold stone. A glance over, and she could see a smile beginning on the boy’s face. “The barrier is still up, the Iron Bull comes crashing, pushing, and the bear is gone. It was not the same, we are not the same. We won’t leave you.” And there was such honesty in his eyes, shrouded as they were behind his wispy blonde locks. He truly believed what he said. Dwyn couldn’t help the few tears that fell, even as she smiled.

“You’re getting much better at finding the right things to say.” A watery chuckle escaped her lips. Then she pulled the boy into a hug. “Thank you Cole. It’s easier when I don’t have to face these doubts alone.” Cole’s hands grasped awkwardly at her shoulders, small patting motions up and down her back. Dwyn released him quickly, remembering too late his discomfort with her displays of affection. “Sorry! Sorry, I’m trying to be better, honest.”

“It is enough that I could help.” the boy’s gentle smile came from to her from underneath his hat, though it dropped quickly. “I only wish I could do more for the bigger hurt.”

At that, Dwyn’s smile joined wherever Cole’s had run off to. Half whispered memories dance at the edge of her awareness, a small voice telling her _it’s not your fault_. Hushed murmurs flowing through her mind, _you did your best_ , a warm sensation grasping her fingers. How many times had he tried, she wondered? And how many times did the knots cinch tighter whenever her companions were hurt?

With a small sigh, she began to stand. “Why don’t we go see how Solas is doing? I’m sure he’d be up for a visit now.” She held out a hand to help him up, wondering if this might be the time he’d take it. He stared at the outstretched hand for a moment. Dwyn was almost ready to take it away when the boy gingerly placed a few of his fingers into hers. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not entirely happy with this piece still, but I wanted to write a Cole and Dwyn scene. Seriously, Cole is hella hard to write man.
> 
> Also I promise they won't all be depressing when they're from Dwyn's pov, I just live in the tragedy trash can xD
> 
> Feedback and what not would be loved and appreciated~~~


End file.
